When I first started this journal, I didn't do so for any reason other than I thought it was a good idea. I love to write. I have all these wacky things rolling around in my head at any given moment. Also, I have family spread all over this country. What better way to stay in contact with them and share some of what rolls around in my brain?
My then-roommate introduced me to Diaryland, and it was a time where if one of our group did something, the others at least tried it. Hence three of the four of us that were suitemates my last year in college all had Diaryland journals, but I am, to the best of my knowledge, the only one left in Diaryland.
Six years ago, Diaryland was still brand spankin' new. Everyone knew of a few of the most popular journals, like Marn, Pischina, and of course, the ever-popular Uncle Bob. For some reason, it was the coolest thing EVER to belong to Uncle Bob's army, and to get in, all you had to do was email Uncle Bob and beg him to add you to his list of diaries.
Six years ago, I was still in college. I was going to a prestigious university in Virginia, and I had just broken up with my boyfriend of several months in order to be with a man who'd been a great friend of my sister, who was five years older than I am, and who was in the Navy. Of course, I am speaking of Kurt. In 1999, Kurt had gotten my email address and AIM screenname from my sister, and had informed me he was moving to Virginia. He wanted information on what colleges were around because he wanted to go to school, and he thought it would be cool if we hung out since I was pretty much the only one he knew in Virginia. I had met him back in 1994 at the age of 15 when my sister had flown me out for a visit to Illinois where she was stationed at the time. Of all the folks I'd met on that trip, he was the one that actually stood out for me since he was just about the only one that treated me like an adult, not a kid.
In January of 2000, Kurt transferred to Virginia and almost immediately called me to get together. The first time he showed up on campus (January 19), we just KNEW. I was still dating my previous boyfriend, and it took me nearly three weeks to break it off with him. Why, I'm not sure. I think it was simply cowardice.
Six years ago, life was going fairly swimmingly for me. I was a junior in college, and while I was never going to make the Dean's list (they really ought not to count freshman year!), I still wasn't doing too badly academically. I had a group of friends I hung out with, and while we were never the wild & crazy type, we did manage to have a great time. I didn't know it, but one of the hardest years of my life was right around the corner, a year that made me question if I was worth knowing, worth being around, worth any kind of relationship. A year that made me think I wasn't worth any of it, that I was destined to remain alone (with the exception of Kurt) my whole life. A year that continues to shape who I am today, as it's extremely hard for me to make friends and trust people with my heart, and why I have so few friends in general.
Six years ago, I never would have envisioned where I am today. I figured that once I finished college, some high-tech company would hire me, train me, pay me a zillion dollars, and I would be doing fairly well for myself by now. Six years ago, we were still in the midst of the dot-com boom and the technology boom, where high-tech companies were hiring anyone with a computer science degree and a heartbeat. By the time I graduated a year and a half later, the requirements had gotten a lot stricter, and I never did manage to find a job related to my degree.
Six years ago, I dreamed of being a wife and mother, but I didn't think it would happen. I wasn't sure I would find a man that would agree to my being a housewife and mother. Fortunately I did, which is where Gracie comes in.
A lot happens in six years, a lot that we remember, a lot that we want to forget. Amazingly enough, I have a record of what went on in my life over the last six years. I don't generally look back and read my old entries; in some ways, I feel somewhat ashamed of being so trusting and immature in my life. But that's how we grow and change and mature, and it's a never-ending process.
Hopefully the next six years and beyond will be even better than the last six years. Even with all that has happened to me in my life, I am still the eternal optimist. For if you don't have optimism for the future, you haven't got much at all!